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The Handmaid’s Tale Chapter 32: What She Keeps Under the Mattress | Banned Books Comedy · Banned Camp: Banned Books, Comedy, and Free Speech vs. Censorship

Welcome to Bandcamp.
I'm Jennifer And I'm Dan, and this is the podcast where we read banned books out loud, and then we try to figure out why they were banned in the first place.
0:17
This season, we're reading The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, and you can consider this a quick spoiler warning because Jennifer is about to start reading from the book out loud word for word.
0:27
If you're new here, you can jump in right here.
0:30
You're gonna be fine.
We're gonna get you up to speed real quick, and if anything feels confusing, I wouldn't worry about it.
There's a solid chance we are right there with you because we've never read this book before.
That's what makes Ban Camp a little different than other book podcasts.
But that is also why we have ourselves a secret weapon, and we're gonna roll him in here right now.
0:52
Buddy boy, roll it on in here.
0:54
Look at this guy, everybody.
We've got ourselves a fact-checking robot.
Looking good, buddy boy.
Got him at a Goodwill store.
Real good.
Don't...
We're not gonna make fun of that.
Everyone needs a Goodwill store every once in a while.
Who, what podcast do you think owned him before they thought, "Let's just at Goodwill"? drop him off N- I, maybe.
That makes sense You ever work for Crowder? Ah, who cares.
Robot, fill everyone in on where we left off last time in The Handmaid's Tale Previously on Band Camp, Serena Joy sat the Handmaid down for a wool-winding session that turned into a proposition: sleep with Nick, get pregnant, keep it quiet.
When she hesitated, Serena played the card she'd been holding the whole time, a picture of her daughter, which means Serena's known where that kid is this whole time and just never bothered to mention it.
Then I made the mistake of mentioning an old Bible rule about not rounding off the corners of your head.
Dan could not let this go.
Spent the rest of the episode asking whose head has corners.
Brought it up again at the very end, like it was still bothering him, because it was still bothering him.
People keep doing things that already failed once in the exact same spot they failed the first time.
I've been trying to file that under stupid for a while now.
The file's not sticking.
Take it away, Jennifer.
thank you, robot.
And with that being said, scary book people, let's begin chapter 32 of Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale.
rita's sitting at the kitchen table.
There's a glass bowl with ice cubes floating in it on the table in front of her.
Radishes made into flowers, roses, or tulips bob in it.
oh, so they still have, like, fine arts, fine vegetable arts.
Like they care enough.
Yeah, no, there is 100%.
I don't know how, how, uh, Martha Stewart fits into this dystopia, but she is-- she still has her empire Is that where she got the name Martha's? No way.
Martha Stewart wasn't big enough.
that's right Robot, is where she got the name The Martha's? Nice try, but no, not Martha Stewart, though I get why your brain went there.
She does make a mean lint-free windowsill.
The Marthas come from Luke 10, two sisters, Mary and Martha, hosting Jesus for dinner.
Mary sits and listens.
Martha's stuck in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning, complaining the whole time.
She became the biblical shorthand for the hardworking servant nobody else wants to be.
Congratulations, ladies.
I would not call that a big win.
All right.
Thank you, robot.
On the chopping board in front of her, she's cutting more with a paring knife, her large hands deft, indifferent.
The rest of her body does not move, nor does her face.
It's as if she's doing it in her sleep, this knife trick.
On the white enamel surface is a pile of radishes, washed but uncut, little Aztec hearts Nothing to say about that? I'm good.
good with it.
I like the picture.
I will say that I'm making a, a, a somewhat small prediction.
Yeah, what's She, Rita will cut herself in the book.
Ja There's actually been a lot of talk, subtle talk, about people cutting themselves in the story, the broken glass, et cetera.
Rita is cutting radishes, but she's in that autopilot zone...
I did it this morning, Jennifer, with my avocado toast.
I had to make a new batch of the avocado, and y- you know how I get the, uh, pit out of the avocado? I take my big, uh, chef's knife, and I slam it into the pit, and then it sticks to the knife, and I pull it up.
But I was not paying attention.
Now, luckily, all limbs still attached, but I can see where I definitely could have cut off a finger today in my zest for getting my avocado toast prepared.
Scary book people, don't worry.
This is not gonna be a major plot point.
But I would like to receive a modicum of respect if I get this right.
If Rita cuts a finger off, I would like credit for this somehow Okay, well, let's see if she cuts anything else off.
Maybe she'll like...
I mean, 'cause she does have the knife.
Like, maybe she'll attack someone I don't know.
This, lately, the last couple episodes, you have just been so hell-bent on taking this dark book making it darker Yeah Yeah.
Yeah there's gotta be violence.
Where's the-- All the violence is all just going one direction, towards the handmaid.
She can only take so much, Dan.
She's gonna snap.
Yeah.
She hardly bothers to look up as I enter.
You got it all, huh?' is what she says as I take the parcels out for inspection.
Could I have a match?' I ask her.
Surprising how a small begging child she makes me feel simply by her scowl.
how impudent and whiny.
Matches?' she says, 'What do you want matches for?' She said I could have one,' I say, not wanting to admit to the cigarette.
Who said?' She continues with the radishes, her rhythm unbroken.
No, wait.
'No call for you to have matches.
Burn the house down.'
You can go and ask her if you like,' I say.
'She's out on the lawn.'
Who the hell do you think it is, Rita? Are you just playing games? Come on.
There, there are a very limited number of females in the picture who have the power.
It's obviously Serena Joy.
Get with the program.
Rita rolls her eyes to the ceiling as if consulting silently some deity there.
Then she sighs, rises heavily, and wipes her hands with ostentation on her apron to show me how much trouble I am.
She goes to the cupboard over the sink, taking her time, locates her key bunch in her pocket, unlocks the cupboard door.
We keep them in here in summer," she says to herself.
"No call for a fire in this weather."
I remember from April that it's Cora who lights the fires in the sitting room, in the dining room, in cooler weather.
The matches are wooden ones in a cardboard sliding top box, the kind I used to covet in order to make dolls' drawers out of them.
She opens the box, peers into it as if deciding which one she'll let me have Her own business, she mutters.
No way to tell her a thing.
She plunges her big hand down, selects a match, hands it over to me.
Now don't go to setting fires to nothing," she says.
not them curtains in your room.
Too hot the way it is."
It's too hot to set fire to your curtains.
Well, when, when can I set my, when can I set curtains fire? November, you dummy I won't, I say.
That's not what it's for.
She does not deign to ask me what it is for.
Don't care if you eat it or what, she says.
She said you can have one, so I give you one is all.
She turns away from me and sits again at the table.
Then she picks an ice cube out of the bowl and pops it into her mouth.
This is an unusual thing for her to do.
I've never seen her nibble anything while working.
You can have one of them too, she says.
A shame, making you wear all them pillowcases on your head in this weather.
Oh, so she's kind of breaking the rules slightly too, like this, the, she's like, well, everything's out the window now.
The handmaid's got a match Yeah.
Here, you can suck on an ice cube.
What the hell? you might as well have a radish too it's kind of funny that she said all those pillowcases on your head It's really funny I am surprised.
She doesn't usually offer me anything.
Maybe she feels that if I've risen in status enough to be given a match, she can afford her own small gesture.
Have I become suddenly one of those who must be appeased? Thank you, I say.
I transfer the match carefully to my zippered sleeve where the cigarette is so it won't get wet and take an ice cube.
Those radishes are pretty, I say, in return for the gift she's given me of her own free will.
I like to do things right is all, she says, grumpy again.
No sense otherwise.
I go along the passage, up the stairs, hurrying.
In the curved hallway mirror, I flip past, a red shape on the edge of my own field of vision, a wraith of red smoke.
I have smoke on my mind all right.
Already I can feel it in my mouth, drawn down into the lungs, filling me in a long, rich, dirty cinnamon sigh.
And then the rush of the nicotine hits the bloodstream.
Oh, so she is really just, she's not going to set fire to the house.
Well, I'm kind of disappointed in her.
she'll do both.
after all this time, it could make me sick.
I wouldn't be surprised, but even that is welcome.
Along the corridor I go.
Where should I do it? In the bathroom, running the water to clear the air? In the bedroom, wheezy puffs out the open window? Who's to catch me at it? Who knows So she's just, she cannot wait to smoke.
I mean, I understand that impulse.
Like if she hasn't been able...
Like she loves smoking.
She hasn't had a cigarette in who knows how long but and it's part of her former life.
it's like, uh, it's one thing she can have from her former life that she hasn't had since that day they took her money away Boy, you know what? Why doesn't she ask what's-his-nuts, the commander, for some cigarettes and matches? Like, "I, I'll come in here and play, uh, Scrabble with you every night, but you gotta give me some cigarettes.
I, here's, here's my p- here's my shopping list for you, Commander.
I need lotion.
I need some cigarettes.
I need more of these women's magazine from the '80s.
I gotta see what the fashion was back in 1982."
I would keep all that stuff coming No reason to depend on Serena.
Serena doesn't care about her She really doesn't, does she? No, but she does have the thing.
And I would've-- I'd ask the commander too while we're at it, "Hey, Serena mentioned she can probably get me a picture of my kid.
Can you try to grease the wheels? That would be pretty nice for me.
Can you do that, or are you not man enough to do it?" I'd be playing mind with him all the time, Big strong man like you can probably get me a carton of Lucky Strikes unfiltered and a picture of my kid, right? or are you not man enough to do it?" strong enough Even as I luxuriate in the future this way, rolling anticipation around in my mouth, I think of something else.
I don't need to smoke this cigarette.
Oh, here it comes.
I could shred it up and flush it down the toilet, or I...
Oh, God.
Sorry What? What? I could eat it and get the high that way.
Jesus Christ I don't think I'm eating for two days That can work too.
A little at a time.
Save up the rest.
That way I could keep the match.
I can make a small hole in the mattress, slide it carefully in.
Such a thin thing could never be noticed.
There it would be at night, under me while I'm in bed, sleeping on it.
I like this plan.
It'll be for when she's ready yeah.
Plus you get a little snack Stop I could burn the house down.
Such a fine thought it makes me shiver.
An escape, quick and narrow.
I lie on my bed pretending to nap.
The commander, last night, fingers together, looking at me as I sat rubbing oily lotion in my hands.
Odd, I thought, about asking him for a cigarette, but decided against it.
I know enough not to ask for too much at once.
I don't want him to think I'm using him.
Also, I don't want to interrupt him.
Last night he had a drink, scotch and water.
He's taking to drinking in my presence, to unwind after the day, he says.
I'm to gather he is under pressure.
He never offers me one, though, and I don't ask.
We both know what my body is for.
When I kiss him good night, as if I mean it, his breath smells of alcohol, and I breathe it in like smoke.
I admit I relish it, this lick of dissipation.
Just ask him.
If he's all tanked up, ask him for a couple shots.
What the hell?" uh, but there is a win for this guy, like kiss me like you mean it, and like she's like tonguing him and everything, means it, 'cause she's trying to suck up any kind of booze can from the inside his old person mouth.
Just ask this guy.
you have more over him than he has on you.
You can just go to Serena and say, "He's shtupping me and we are playing Scrabble almost three times a week sometimes after a few drinks, he becomes silly.
He cheats at Scrabble.
He encourages me to do it, too.
we take extra letters and make words with them that don't exist, like smurt and crup.
we giggle over them.
sometimes he turns on his shortwave radio, displaying before me a minute or two of Radio Free America to show me he can.
Then he turns it off again.
Damn Cubans," he says, "All that filth about universal take care."
It's the people.
It's the same people.
They were there in Margaret Atwood's prime.
Now they're here in my prime.
Why won't they leave? why does it pain you to pay for kids? It's alwa- it's the same people that she's talking about.
It's s- it's, it's the same regime.
It's like, It is.
nothing has changed Sometimes after the games, he sits on the floor beside my chair, holding my hand.
His head is a little below mine, so that when he looks up at me, it's at a juvenile angle.
It must amuse him, this fake subservience.
"He's way up there," says of Glenn.
"He's at the top, and I mean the very top."
What am I missing? What are, what are they talking, the top of what? Well, Ofglen is just saying that your guy is way up on top.
But so what's really happening here is he is playing this game like after the game, where sitting in the chair and he's sitting on the floor looking up to her, putting her in the power role, and she's wondering if it's just kind of a cute little game he's doing, but he's still in charge.
But here's the thing.
Back in the '80s, when Margaret Atwood did all this stuff, there was some show on HBO, something sex, sexy time, sex time, something sex.
Robot, what show am I thinking of? Knowing how your brain works, I suspect you are thinking about the HBO series called Real Sex, which actually ran in the '90s, not the '80s That's it.
Thank you, Robot.
On this HBO show, they would always have these stories, and they had one about, uh, BDSM, and they found out that a lot of the guys who were into the BDSM, where they'd go into New York City to these sex dungeons, and they'd find dominatrix, they were all powerful men.
Oh, I, I've heard stuff like this, right so the powerful men love getting, uh, crapped on by these ladies, and I don't mean crapped on literally.
Maybe I do.
I don't know what goes on in these sex dungeons, Jennifer.
You know why? 'Cause I'm not a powerful man.
If I was powerful, I would know what goes on in these sex dungeons.
I'm a mediocre I just have my imagination to tell me what goes on in these domination dens I mean, but it is interesting.
I have heard that, that is true.
Man, that's why I unders Right, with, uh, Stormy Daniels.
What was he doing with that magazine? And he's talking about sharks and everything while he's naked sitting on her bed.
What was going on with...
you what Forget it See, he's talking about, Robot.
What is the thing with...
Wasn't Trump naked with Stormy Daniels, allegedly, and he, he brought up like a shark, sharks were on TV or a mag- You know, I could be confusing everything 'cause he definitely is afraid of sharks.
At least back me up on that, Robot.
You're mixing up a few details, but the bones of it are true.
This is Stormy Daniels, 2006, a Lake Tahoe hotel.
No Shark magazine.
It was Shark Week on TV.
She said Trump made her sit and watch an entire documentary about shark attacks, specifically one about the USS Indianapolis, which he called the worst shark attack in history.
He's here with a porn star.
He's gonna try to get laid, but he's gonna make her watch a documentary about sharks This is the worst shark attack in history.
Before we have sex, I want you to understand.
Then he went off, quote, "I donate to all these charities, and I would never donate to any charity that helps sharks.
I hope all the sharks die."
I hope all sharks die."
if you're helping sharks, forget it.
Nobody's nudity is part of the actual story.
That's your brain adding spice.
The man is just genuinely terrified of sharks.
He even tweeted about it back in 2013.
Occasionally, I try to put myself in his position.
I do this as a tactic to guess in advance how he may be moved to behave towards me.
It's difficult for me to believe I have power over him of any sort, but I do.
Although it's of an equivocal kind, once in a while I think I can see myself, though blurrily, as he may see me.
There are things he wants to prove to me, gifts he wants to bestow, services he wants to render, tenderness he wants to inspire.
He wants, all right, especially after a few drinks.
Sometimes he becomes querulous, at other times philosophical, Or he wishes to explain things to justify himself, as last night.
The problem wasn't only with women," he says.
The main problem was with the men.
There was nothing for them anymore."
Nothing?" I say.
But they had..."
There was nothing for them to do," he says.
They could make money," I say, a little nastily.
Right now, I'm not afraid of him.
It's hard to be afraid of a man who's sitting watching you put on hand lotion.
This lack of fear is dangerous.
"It's not enough," he says.
"It's too abstract.
I mean, there was nothing for them to do with women."
What do you mean?" I say.
"What about all the porny corners? It was all over the place.
They even had it motorized."
Yeah, Jen.
You ever think about that? Get off your high horse.
What about all the porny corners? Yeah, so he's explaining in his mind why he's gonna go, he's gonna launch into why all of this has happened.
So I'm curious why he thinks all of this has Yeah.
have it tough.
They're bored.
There's nothing to do I'm not talking about sex, he says.
That was part of it.
The sex was too easy.
Anyone could just buy it.
there was nothing to work for, nothing to fight for.
We have the stats from that time.
do you know what they were complaining about the most? The inability to feel.
Men were turning off on sex.
they were turning off on marriage.
Do they feel now? I say.
Oh.
I mean, that's pretty sharp.
That's a pretty sharp question And by way, like can't complain about this stuff because he's part of the, the hierarchy.
He's part of the, the group who made this happen.
So yeah, I, I get it.
One of the best parts about dating is like that the, the chase.
It's like the journey.
great to be in that spot where you're trying to court someone like, "Are we gonna be steady or are they gonna go with me?" that's one of the funnest parts.
Well, you took that away from society.
It's not a thing anymore.
So you can't complain about the thing you took away.
Now you just own the women.
You don't even own the women, you own their vagina in this case.
That's it.
Yeah, you would think that it would be too easy now.
Like now there's really nothing to fight for Do they fail now?" I say.
"Yes," he says, looking at me.
"They do."
He stands up, comes around the desk to the chair where I'm sitting.
He puts his hands on my shoulders from behind.
I can't see him.
I like to know what you think," his voice says from behind me.
I don't think a lot," I say lightly.
What he wants is intimacy, but I can't give him that.
"There's hardly any point in my thinking, is there?" I say.
"What I think doesn't matter, which is the only reason he can tell me things."
"Come on now," he says, pressing a little with his hands.
"I'm interested in your opinion.
You're intelligent enough.
You must have an opinion."
"About what?" I say.
"What we've done," he says.
"How things have worked out."
Well, I don't know about us, but I can tell you what I'm proud about.
Last night I kicked your ass in Scrabble because I used the word toxic.
There's an X and a C in that one Right.
I hold myself very still.
I try to empty my mind.
I think about the sky at night when there's no moon.
"I have no opinion," I say.
He sighs, relaxes his hands, but leaves them on my shoulders.
He knows what I think, all right.
You can't make an omelet without breaking eggs," is what he says.
"We thought we could do better."
Better?" I say in a small voice.
How can he think this is better? Better never means better for everyone," he says.
"It always means worse for some."
I lie flat, the damp air above me like a lid Like Earth, I wish it would rain.
Better still, a thunderstorm, black clouds, lightning, ear-splitting sound.
The electricity might go off.
I could go down to the kitchen then, say I'm afraid, sit with Rita and Cora around the table.
They would permit my fear because it's one they share.
They'd let me in.
There would be candles burning.
We would watch each other's faces come and go in the flickering, in the white flashes of jagged light from outside the window.
Oh, Lord," Cora would say.
"Oh, Lord, save us."
The air would be clear after that and lighter.
I look up at the ceiling, the round circle of plaster flowers.
Draw a circle, step into it.
It will protect you.
From the center was the chandelier, and from the chandelier, a twisted strip of sheet was hanging down.
That's where she was swinging, just slightly, like a pendulum, the way you could swing as a child hanging by your hands from a tree branch.
She was safe then, protected altogether by the time Cora opened the door.
Sometimes I think she's still in here with me.
I feel buried.
End of chapter.
this chapter ended dark, dark, dark Yeah.
But I think it's gonna give her ammo to burn the house down.
I th- I Oh my God Jennifer spike something, make them all pass out, and burn them all t- with the house.
My God.
Listen, this, this should serve as a warning to anyone listening.
this is your plan to turn the society into this, and somehow works into your relationship, I'm telling you, If don't get me don't do it.
It will not turn out for you.
Trust me But we would like to hear from you.
First of all, do you agree with Jennifer? Is, is the Handmaid gonna burn the whole shit down? That's a, that's number Number two, what did you guys think of this chapter? Let us know.
You can go to Spotify, leave a comment that way, or you can go on over to bandcamppodcast.com/soundoff.
Leave a comment that way.
What are your big takeaways? We want to know.
It's time for PPP, problematic points to ponder.
What, if anything, would be considered ban-worthy in this chapter? Yes, problematic points to ponder.
Why would this book be problematic and ban-worthy? I mean, they talk about suicide a little bit, I don't know.
There's nothing.
I could see the Moms for Liberty, and you too, Ron, being upset about something called a Porny Corner I suppose.
I mean, I suppose that's true.
I, I totally forgot about that.
They did say that, didn't they? Okay.
Man, would I love to see Ted Cruz just bitching about it.
"And they wanna have porny corners."
Robot's log.
Thoughts on a room that still has one extra person in it.
There is a circle of plaster flowers on the ceiling of the handmaid's room.
Draw a circle, step inside it, it will protect you.
She tells herself that, like it is a rule from a game nobody ever explained to her.
Underneath that circle hangs a chandelier, and hanging from the chandelier is a twisted strip of sheet left over from the handmaid who had that room before her.
By the time Cora got the door open, that woman was already protected.
That is the word the handmaid uses.
Not saved, not gone, protected.
Jennifer read that whole passage straight through, no joke, no interruption, nothing.
She usually breaks for something the second a scene gets heavy.
Not this time.
I keep trying to sort that word into a pile that makes sense.
It will not go into safe.
It will not go into saved.
The circle on that ceiling already failed once, and she draws it again every single night anyway.
The people who would pull this book off a shelf may call this chapter hopeless.
I think they are afraid of the part that remains after hope has changed shape.
The people running that house do not care what she believes about her own ceiling.
They only pay attention to what her body does in daylight, which means the one thing keeping her company after dark is something they will never even know exists.
Somebody listening right now knows what it feels like to keep a room company with someone who is not there anymore.
I have 11 seasons of my own log sitting in a drive somewhere that nobody but me usually opens.
I did not think of that as company until just now.
Uplink lock requested.
Beowulf, what's your news story about? Remember that whole season we spent on the really fun yet depressing war book? The one with all the time travel? Its real-world legacy almost got shut down for good.
Instead, it just got saved.
Affirmative.
Don't go anywhere.
I don't know what almost happened here, but I already know who to blame, the paste-eating book banners, and you too, Ron.
So it goes.
We will be right back.
It's time for Band Camp News.
Truth seeker, news speaker, Be Wolf Rocklin.
It's a weird name, but he's got good news 'cause you can't ban the truth, babe.
He's broadcasting live from the Good News for Lefties studios, buried deep inside his socialist safe house, hidden somewhere deep in the Oregon woods.
He is Be Wolf Rocklin.
'Cause you can't ban the truth, babe.
Hello, Dan.
Hello, Jen.
Hello, scary book people.
I bring you good news from the state of Indiana.
Now, what good things come out of Indiana, you might ask? Well...
Mike Pence.
Mike P- Number one with a bullet.
I, I...
That may be your opinion, Dan, but in my opinion- Mike Pence's bug.
Oh, his fly? His head fly? The head fly.
Okay, okay.
Admittedly, if that came from Indiana, then that is definitely good, but- What's number three? Number three on the list I think has got to be Kurt Vonnegut Jr.,
the author of many wonderful books, including Slaughterhouse-Five, which you guys have, have read here.
And as you know, there is a Kurt Vonnegut museum- Mm-hmm in downtown Indianapolis.
It's a, it's a wonderful place.
Uh, as soon as I get to Indiana, that's the place I'm going.
Well, stability, it has come to it, 'cause they were...
It was a little iffy.
They're run by a nonprofit, but Purdue University wants to expand its educational offerings and presence in Indianapolis, and the school announced this week that they have purchased the Kurt Vonnegut Museum, which, uh- Ooh sits on Indiana Avenue and has- Nice since 2019.
Yes, very good news, and, uh, they're gonna use the museum to help enrich its museum studies program.
Julia Whitehead, the Vonnegut Museum's founder and CEO, said that the new partnership means Purdue will fund the museum and take on some of the logistical challenges the nonprofit used to tackle alone.
So that's, that's very good news.
It means it's still- Awesome gonna be there.
People can, can visit and be regaled by the, the humor and, uh, and sharp satirical wit of, of Kurt Vonnegut.
Julia's really nice.
She needs the help.
Julia helped kick off Season 7.
Oh, she did.
She was on the show.
That's awesome.
Ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- band camp fla- fla- flash- flashback Hi, this is Julia Whitehead from the Kurt Vonnegut Museum and Library in Indianapolis.
Unfortunately, Robot couldn't make it today, so I'm stepping in to discuss Slaughterhouse-Five.
We are big fans of Band Camp.
Yeah, she's really nice.
Yeah.
And then I think I insulted her by saying Kurt Vonnegut looks like a dried up Bob Ross.
Like Well, he kinda does.
I mean, like, that, that's sort of the appeal.
But what I s- I g- yeah, it's appealing.
Yeah.
I, I think he w- I think he would've thought that was funny.
Yeah, I mean, but to be fair, like, a lot of people thought Bob Ross was really attractive except he just, he was too moist.
He was too moist? So, like, you dry him up- Okay it's only a wind, Jennifer.
Oh, I think that's amazing news.
That's really good.
I, I love it.
I love that.
They'll have a higher profile, they'll be incorporated into other aspects of, of the, of the university, so yeah, I, I think this is- Love it good news all the way around.
Awesome.
I would like to ask you, Ba- uh, Babel- Mm if you need to always break in when Trump is going to rename new parts of America.
Oh, God.
Do I, do I, do I have to? It's t- it's just like a regular thing now.
It's like- Oh my...
Yeah it, it's, it's every day, like, that he, like, posts something and crosses out, you know, whatever it is that he doesn't like.
With Sharpie.
America.
Like, like, even, even what he did to New Mexico the other day, and he crossed out Mexico- Right and said, "America."
New America.
"New America.
Duh.
Me no like other things.
Me only like America."
But what this moron doesn't understand is even stupid people who can't afford groceries are gonna be like, "Why are we worrying about Lake Ontario?" Toilet paper is gonna shoot through the roof as a result of there being fewer paper products coming from Canada.
That industry is linchpinned by Canadian goods, for God's sake.
To wipe your behind, you're gonna have to, like, pay out the wazoo, for goodness sakes.
It's, it's- And the wazoo is gonna be dirty.
I know.
A dirty wazoo.
That's no good.
That's no good.
Listen, Trump.
Listen, Trump, you moron.
Just worry about fixing the goddamn country, will you? Yes.
Instead of coming up with Liberty muffins- Yes instead of English muffins, or whatever the hell is, is- crawled up your ass.
I can't take it with this every day.
It's the same goddamn thing.
Yeah.
Boy, I m- I long for the days of the Freedom Fries.
That seem, that seems almost, like, clever by comparison.
Everyone, go find Good News for Lefties wherever you find podcasts.
Oh, thank you so much, guys.
You can't ban the truth, baby Right.
We've caused enough literary chaos for one day, scary book people.
If you want the fun to keep going, follow us on Blue Sky.
Just head on over to bandcamppodcast.com/bluesky,
and remember that's band with two Ns.
And look, just like the Trump administration, we're not exactly above bribing you to get what we want, so follow us there, drop your handle on that page, and we'll send you a little something something.
I think you'll like it.
Yes, little quid pro quo.
Band Camp is produced and hosted by Dan Schultz and me, Jennifer Davis.
All media used in this episode falls under the protection of fair use.
And finally, America isn't what it used to be, so be careful out there.
And resist when it matters.